


hyung squared

by storyop



Category: EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: M/M, alternatively titled 'an essay on my frustration', don’t take this seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 03:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12423723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyop/pseuds/storyop
Summary: taehyung ends up next to a group of exols loudly discussing how much they hate bts but it's okay because junmyeon meets his eyes from on stage and love prevails





	hyung squared

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/wangeuntwt/status/920458887916081152)

_star crossed lovers (n, pl) — 1. ill fated lovers; 2. two members of two incredibly successful boy bands whose fans loathe each other because that’s how it has to be, okay? 3. two people who love each other but cannot be together due to tragic circumstances_

 

01. 김준면 - NOW.

if you ask junmyeon why he does it, he’ll always go back to the fans. it’s _that_ feeling, the one that’s the most impossible for him to put into words, of being on stage in front of a sea of glittering fanlights and his name — _their_  name — being chanted again, again, again. it’s _that_  feeling, the biggest adrenaline rush you can get, an electric current running through every inch of his body. it’s _that_  feeling — better than sex.

well, the sex he’s had, anyway.

all that glitters isn’t gold, however (in fact, their fans’ ocean is silver) and as sweet as the taste of success and worldwide adoration is, there are a couple things he wishes could be different. like their fans’ attitude towards them dating.

it’s hard putting on a fake smile when they’re on a variety show and baekhyun is talking about his future kids and the audience is ready to fucking riot because all they want is for them to be single until their dicks literally shrivel up. not that it stopped minseok — junmyeon genuinely feels bad for his pregnant wife, who has to pretend she knows as little of exo as is realistic for someone who lives in korea when in fact she knows at least one of the members quite intimately. he likes hopping on twitter to see their international fans plastering minseok’s disgusted face all over their accounts and jokingly discussing minseok’s secret wife and kids while not knowing how spot on they actually are.

in between all the exo dick rankings (they should really just ask baekhyun — he’d be more than happy to volunteer the information, and he’s probably taken measurements from his shower bonding times, too) and the not infrequent discussions of their sexualities ( _why_  does it matter to them so much) exols can come up with some pretty creative, hilarious ideas. fan culture will never stop being strange and somewhat frightening to him, but it’s opened up a lot of doors for him he’d never expected to go through.

junmyeon doesn’t realize he’s completely zoned out during the middle of a very important game of league of legends (read, important to _baekhyun_ ) until said baekhyun lets out a yell of highly concentrated pleasure, which can only mean victory despite his absolutely atrocious game playing skills. he looks down at his controller in disgust, ashamed that he let thinking about his fans get in the way of kicking baekhyun’s ass for the hundredth time in a game the latter claims to be an expert at.

baekhyun grabs him by the shoulders. “whatever you were thinking about, i could kiss it. although i totally would’ve won anyway.”

“you can write a sincere thank you letter to our fans the next time you remember that your instagram page exists,” junmyeon answers drily. “i’m sure they’ll eat it up in the middle of condemning you for posting once every two months.”

“you don’t even have one,” baekhyun says mournfully. “who’s depriving the fans more?”

there’s a beat of silence. “minseok,” they both declare in unison. the man really can’t be beat. but it’s not really his fault — he’s busy taking care of his marriage.

junmyeon’s phone lights up with a message, and as soon as he sees the name he sits on it as inconspicuously as possible. to literally anyone else, the act of him planting his ass down on his iphone would have screamed suspicious louder than even jongdae can, but baekhyun is lost in his world of gloating over his accidental win. junmyeon inches away, locking himself in his bathroom like a teenager with a boyfriend her parents can’t possibly find out about for fear of eternal grounding, and skips straight to calling his biggest secret.

kim taehyung.

he can practically taste their fans frothing at the lips, running to their keyboards at the speed of light to type essays about how _taehyung can’t sing, bts is the shittiest group to exist, armys are all fucked in the head for being fans of seven people so talentless and yet disgustingly arrogant_. but just as he’s learned to tune out the multiple (tasteless, in his opinion) jokes about how his wallet is bigger than his dick, he’s mostly learned to tune out how rabid some exols can get when defending their honor.

it’s really thanks to minho they’re this close at all. he’d staged a get together for them and some of his other friends over drinks, and junmyeon’s never one to pass up a night of good soju and good company. he’d been struck by how brilliant taehyung was — in a room full of laughter and loudness and choi minho, taehyung still shone the brightest to him, and he wasn’t able to tear his eyes away when he threw his head back in a laugh or clinked glasses with him, a knowing look in his eyes. he hadn’t spent much time with him before, and he wasn’t sure why — if jongin and jimin could spend so many damn days together doing whatever the two of them did, why couldn’t he and taehyung find some common ground? and that’s where it all started, that night where he went home slightly tipsy with a growing conviction to get to know taehyung better.

he can literally pinpoint the exact second he knew he was in love with taehyung, and he would make a move (really, he would) if not for the fact that both their fandoms would halve from fans dropping dead if he announces a) he‘s dating; b) he‘s dating a male; c) he‘s dating a male idol; d) he‘s dating a male idol from _bangtan sonyeondan_. but he can’t fucking help how he breaks down during his nightly listen to _i want to fall in love_  both because he just wants to hold taehyung’s hand and because the title no longer applies to him, because he’s already fallen in love, hasn’t he?

 

02. 김태형 - SIX MONTHS AGO.

the camera flashes are blinding, hot light exploding in his face as taehyung makes his way through the airport. tugging his mask more securely around his face, he walks with measured deliberation past lines of fans and fansites, the screaming ringing in his ears. he’s not going to lie — he enjoys this, at least a little; he enjoys the way the fans congregate to see him do nothing more than walk and maybe wave a few times, eyes crinkling with a smile. he enjoys the way some of them yell at him to eat well and to take care of himself. he enjoys the way some of them shove gifts at him, and letters that he’ll read while he’s on one of his many long trips across the world.

in his mind’s eye, he can see the fervent speculation as to why he’s headed to wherever he’s going without the rest of the group tagging along with him.  some smart and not as prejudiced fans will perhaps make the connection between him leaving korea and a masked figure seen at exo’s concert a day or two later who seems to be an idol but who no one can really identify, but he’s already prepared a picture of him in japan with one of his many friends to be posted on their twitter on the night of the concert to throw the rest off the scent. meaning, the armys who couldn’t possibly imagine that a member of their beloved group would want to fraternize with the enemy by enjoying one of their concerts, not when it was fraught with _l_ _ip syncing and terribly impersonal songs not written by exo themselves_.

sometimes, some of the things their fans say make him laugh, whether it’s baekhyun learning the lyrics to bts’s songs in order to make fun of their song writing abilities or jeongguk learning the choreography to monster in order to head home and discuss with their dance line how exo’s dances all suck and here’s proof because i learned one and i  _know_  it’s terrible, and perhaps his favorite — jiminnie is hopping on jongin’s dick for fame even though the two of them spend a lot of time together alone doing god knows what (he doesn’t ask, even as jimin stumbling home with flushed cheeks and a happy smile happens more often than not when he’s spent time with jongin). sometimes he laughs — and sometimes he doesn’t, sometimes he’s incredibly confused how so many armys genuinely believe that they expend so much energy at awards shows and such to pretend they can stand the other group when really they’re secretly being held at gunpoint to be nice.

he thinks about it all the way to mexico, scribbling nonsensical drawings into his sketch pad that he’ll go back and look at later in order to make sense of his tangled feelings. being an idol is at times exactly what he expected, but mostly not.

 

in the horde of screaming fangirls with their glitter signs and their lightsticks (he has one himself) taehyung takes a moment to collect himself. he shoves his hat down further over his head and absentmindedly twirls the lightstick in his hand, staring up at the currently empty stage and thinking about how absolutely bizarre it is that he’s had to come secretly to exo’s concert for a man who technically is one of his biggest rivals. if he were any other average twenty something male he could be standing there far more extravagantly showing his affection for kim junmyeon — perhaps painting a _suho_  onto his cheeks and holding up a large, neon _exols love you_  sign in his hand.

he can’t really remember the details of how he met junmyeon — it had been hot, there had been a lot of shoving and stuff being yelled back and forth between staff members — but he does remember how he’d had to stop and really take in how comfortable junmyeon made him feel just by looking at him. he did, after all, have a face that he said himself would be good to take home to your parents (taehyung had watched exo on party people under the tent of his covers in an effort to hide his almost maniacal grin and multiple squeals at how _adorable_  junmyeon was) but it was more than that. idol life was hectic and confusing and there was always a thousand things pulling him in a thousand different directions but when he looked at junmyeon he felt it all settle into a calmness he rarely felt and therefore valued beyond measure.

it doesn’t hurt that junmyeon is so damn _cute_.

the rumble of voices around him only grows louder as time passes, the mass of fans restless to see their idols in front of them, the closest they’ll get to confirmation that they’re real people and not a bunch of holograms as part of a conspiracy cooked up by the government to control the public.

beside him, an excited group of girls clutch at each other, discussing something in a mix of rapid fire spanish and english, neither of which he is remotely near fluent at. he mostly tunes them out, craning his head as though the extra two inches will allow him to see backstage and junmyeon specifically.

what he should do — he knows this — what he _should_  do is tell junmyeon, because the worst that can happen is he gets rejected and his small (huge) crush is stamped out before it can get bigger and take over all of his poor heart. that’s definitely the responsible and mature decision to make, and taehyung already knows he’s not going to make it.

he catches bangtan being mentioned by the group next to him, and out of the corner of his eye he watches how their demeanors become more aggressive, their words sharpening into a level of harshness that surprises him. the irony of it all is not lost on him, and he stifles his laughter, not wanting to be overrun by angry fangirls and exposed as an exol before he can even see junmyeon.

speaking of — the ground shakes beneath him, the audience holding its collective breath before the lights all turn off, plunging them all into darkness only punctuated by dots of silver. the vcr starts, and taehyung _feels_  the level of excitement rising as the screen cycles through various scenes of the members making use of their powers. (it’s a cool concept. very different from bangtan’s, but cool nevertheless.)

and then they appear, and taehyung forgets everything, lost to the thrill of being in concert that is as acute and inexplainable as is performing, albeit in a completely different way. it all passes in a blur, with only flashes of perfect clarity — sehun yelling something he can’t make out, chanyeol slinging an arm around kyungsoo’s shoulders, junmyeon —

junmyeon, having made his way to their section of the stage, eyes caressing the audience with a small smile that spoke what words couldn’t, meets his eyes. stares straight at him, and taehyung knows that he’s recognized him, mask and all. beneath the cloth, his cheeks burn as junmyeon’s eyes crinkle, his smile widening — because of him. because of taehyung.

he’s itching to pull his camera out and capture this moment: junmyeon, bathed in golden light, sweat sparkling on his brow and his soft cheeks red and looking good enough to bite into, the brightest thing in the arena by far his smile, directed toward taehyung and taehyung alone. only to make it last longer, because junmyeon is already moving on, sending a heart toward the group of girls right beside him. but taehyung’s heart is full; he’s clutching his lightstick to his chest like a giddy teenager and thinking and thinking and thinking about how he wants to keep being the reason for junmyeon’s smiles.

 

through some clever maneuvering and just a little bit of luck, taehyung manages to slip backstage and rounds the corner on jongin wheezing out a laugh at something (probably a stupid something) baekhyun has said. he backs away, leaving the two of them to their moment, a smile automatically brought to his face at the sound of jongin’s highly contagious giggling.

he finds junmyeon standing against a wall, talking to kyungsoo in a low voice. there’s a water bottle held loosely in his hand and his shirt is sticky with sweat and taehyung is in love. he should say something. this time when their eyes lock it’s different — there’s something softer about it, gentler, where they’re not surrounded by hot lights and cacophony. taehyung fights the urge to hide by pulling his mask back up and instead allows himself to sink into junmyeon’s warm gaze.

kyungsoo clears his throat. “i’m going to go see if chanyeol needs anything.”

“right,” junmyeon says, and taehyung is sure his face is as red as his right now. “yeah. sounds good.”

“hey,” taehyung says awkwardly as kyungsoo disappears, and immediately winces a little. so smooth, taehyung. a betrayal to who he is.

he can’t take his eyes off junmyeon as he takes another swig from his water bottle, pretty much the only indicator that he’s as nervous as taehyung himself feels. now he knows why their fans write dissertations about the seven of them doing something so simple as drinking water.

“did you enjoy the show?”

taehyung grins. “it wasn’t as good as ours are, of course, but i can’t say it was bad.” and just like that, he’s reminded of the comfort that draws him to junmyeon so much, and they fall back into the normal way of things. at this point he’s only half paying attention to junmyeon’s response, a long anecdote of a light failure that was somehow chanyeol’s fault sprinkled with several terrible puns that make taehyung laugh despite himself. he’s really more hung up on how junmyeon’s laugh sounds, how his eyes curve and almost disappear and how pretty his teeth are.

he’s so whipped —

 

03. 김준면 - NOW.

“so,” baekhyun says as junmyeon lets out a loud and very undignified yelp, “i hear you want to hold kim taehyung’s hand.” junmyeon curses whoever gave him the unfortunate trait of talking in his sleep. “i don’t blame you; his hands are quite nice. i’ve held them once myself.”

in his sleep addled state, junmyeon’s mind immediately shoots to baekhyun doing a whole lot more to taehyung than just holding his hand. he wouldn’t be surprised, honestly — baekhyun has a tendency to shove his nose and his dick into far too many peoples’ businesses. glaring (ineffectively) at baekhyun, he asks, “is that some kind of euphemism?”

baekhyun blinks. “no, i very literally held hands with him once.” junmyeon lets out a sigh. “my hands are still better, though. one of my best features, really, aside from my sensual hips —“ junmyeon stops listening to baekhyun in favor of settling back into his bed and drifting off. five years ago it would’ve been impossible for any of them to sleep with baekhyuns chatter, but now it’s like their personalized lullabies (until he eventually gets the hint and backs out of the room, murmuring a mostly insincere sorry for disturbing their sleep).

“wait,” junmyeon interrupts, cracking an eye open, “why are you in my room?”

“i ran out of toothpaste,” baekhyun answered matter of factly. as though it was the most normal thing in the world that he would be borrowing his toothpaste at three in the morning.

“what? did you just get in? what have you been doing?”

“i was out.” baekhyun almost trips over junmyeon’s feet as he clambers off his bed.

“with who?”

“taeminnie,” baekhyun answers, and junmyeon groans. of course. god knows they have plenty of late night escapades, probably discussing their mutual hatred of cucumbers or whatever the two of them talk about. “go back to sleep, hyung. i’m so sorry i disturbed you.” the apology. it’s like checking things off a list. “oh but... here’s a thought. tell him.”

junmyeon throws a pillow at him.

 

there are decisions junmyeon makes that he almost immediately regrets, and one of them is having thrown the pillow at baekhyun last night, as he trips over it on his way out of room. he takes the entire scenario as an accurate representation of what his life looks like right now.

he scrolls through bangtan’s twitter during breakfast, getting two spoons into his cereal before he’s distracted and never finishes. the post from the night of exordium mexico makes him chuckle. taehyung looks cute in it, too, and junmyeon ends up accidentally staring at it dreamily until he registers the fact that sehun is laughing at him.

junmyeon is no visual art inclined intellectual, self-proclaimed or not, but he believes he has the ability to identify a beautiful work when he sees one. (after all, he does look in the mirror each day.) but taehyung is — and what better way to use the piles of money exols dump into the group than to buy shit that will help him learn about art so he can impress his crush?

 

he meets taehyung at a café after the both of them agree that they’re okay with the fact that they’re hanging out being made public. tae is fresh off shooting for something (he won’t tell him), makeup lining his eyes and his hair styled. it’s a sharp contrast to junmyeon’s beanie and slight stubble, but the important thing is the joyous feeling bubbling in his stomach. they stop at the café for only a moment, opting to take a walk instead of being holed up inside. they both could use some fresh air.

tae takes a long sip of his coffee, closing his eyes and opening them again with difficulty, and junmyeon tsks. “when was the last time you had a proper night of sleep?”

tae grins around the straw, eyes crinkling. “you know how the job is, hyung.” he does. he knows it incredibly well, knows the late nights and the unattractive under eye bags the stylists have to work their asses off to hide, knows the painkillers they down like candy. they all work so, so hard — exo, bts, you name it... and in the end it’s all worth it. it really is.

“did you... want to tell me something?” tae asks, breaking junmyeon out of his thoughts. he’s been zoning off too often lately. “it just sounded like it. on the phone.”

“i —” well yeah. junmyeon had come here with every intent to confess his love, not entirely sure how dramatic to make it or even how to do it at all, but now that he’s staring taehyung and his pretty skin and his dark eyes down he’s lost the ability to coherently speak. it’s not fair, he thinks a little dizzily (too much sugar?), it’s not fair. he just —

“myeon?”

it’s taehyung saying his name like that, the hesitant way the nickname falls from his lips, his eyes expectant — junmyeon blurts, “i read a book on van gogh.”

taehyung blinks. “what?”

 _oh my god_. junmyeon’s ears are burning, embarrassment probably emanating from him in hot waves. but hey, he’s gotten this far, right? “van gogh? the artist? i read a book on him. it was... i mean, i thought it was really interesting, actually, even a little sad at times, and the whole thing about the swallowing paint or — or having created his most incredible masterpiece while he was in a mental institution — anyway,” junmyeon breaks off his rambling, looking down at taehyung’s hands (he wants to hold them) instead of the astonished and slightly confused look on his face. “i liked it. but i still don’t know too much about the art itself, and i was wondering if — well, i mean, you’re a genius when it comes to this stuff, so...”

“what are you asking me?” taehyung’s voice is a little hoarse, and junmyeon finally looks up. to see taehyung, taehyung with his mouth a little open and his face just a little pale.

“we could go,” junmyeon says quietly. “to... to an art museum or something. the two of us. together.” and it’s different from junmyeon calling taehyung yesterday to ask about meeting today, it’s different from every time they’ve bowled or played laser tag or grabbed a quick bite to eat in between schedules. it’s different because they both know there’s a much bigger question hanging unspoken in the air, which is why junmyeon adds, “if you want.”

“if i want,” taehyung whispers. the silence after those three simple words stretches on for so long that junmyeon almost explodes with anticipation.

“i want to go traveling with you.”

”tae —“

“i want to go traveling with you, hyung,” taehyung repeats, and there’s something so desperate in the way he says it that junmyeon pauses, eyes fixed on his face. “i want to go traveling with you, and take pictures of you doing the most random shit, and hold your hand and go for walks with our dogs and i never thought i’d say this but” — taehyung closes his eyes — “i even want to work out with you.” junmyeon lets out a little hiccuping laugh. “and yes, i want to go to art museums with you and talk your ears off and i want to wake up to you,” he finishes, his voice dropping to a whisper. “that’s what i want.”

kim junmyeon isn’t a terribly irresponsible person. he knows what he has to do to keep his image intact, he knows what he has to do to not screw his idol status up. so it takes everything in him not to just grab taehyung by his collar and kiss him, sm entertainment and the paparazzi following them be damned. he settles for just reaching for taehyung’s hand, his face probably the color of a tomato, and finally — finally he’s holding it, tae’s palm large and warm in his.

“the fans are going to have collective heart attacks over this,” junmyeon says, cheesing down at their joined hands. tae’s eyebrow jumps, his deep laugh rumbling out of his body. “now imagine if i’d kissed you.”

tae almost chokes on air, his fingers tightening around junmyeon’s. “w—we’re probably still going to get yelled at,” he manages. “you should’ve just gone the distance.”

 

the news spreads like wildfire (it’s probably baekhyun’s fault) and one day junmyeon finds minho knocking on his door demanding a thank you for having brought them closer together in the first place. junmyeon shuts the door in his face.

(he lets him in a second later, bursting into laughter at the look on his face. he’d never pass up the chance to hang out with minho.)

but the best parts of his days by far are when he gets to spend time with taehyung (and hold his hand, of course). they do end up going to the art museum, where junmyeon stares in awe as taehyung goes into in depth analyses of every piece; he doesn’t really understand most of it but it’s okay because tae looks so _happy_  and interested with his eyes sparkling and a huge smile taking over his face. tae takes pictures of him next to the paintings, texting them to him with cheesy shit like “art next to art” and junmyeon is so, so happy. the happiest he’s been in a long time.

he goes traveling for a bit, missing tae the entire time. he’d wanted to bring him — he’s still waiting for the opportunity for them to travel together, but their schedules are always in conflict; he’s about to go on tour with the rest of his group again on top of it all. it’s his first indication of how hard it’ll be to manage their relationship with the fact that they’re internationally famous idols hanging over their heads, but he’s willing to do his absolute best.

because — well because this: because they finally meet again, even though taehyung is exhausted and junmyeon is already having to work through a thousand things related to their concert, everything melts away when junmyeon curls up in tae’s lap with his head tucked under his chin. everything melts away when taehyung tilts his head up so he can slot their lips together in the softest kiss, his lips warm against his, the taste of something sweet and entirely taehyung filling all his senses.

and sure, maybe for a few months of the year they’ll have to be content with texts at odd times and video calls, but as junmyeon watches taehyung giggle as he chases byul around his room, he figures it’ll all be alright in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m how baekhyun posted on instagram at the literal exact moment i finished typing the paragraph admonishing him for his horrendous updating
> 
> thank you for reading/leaving kudos/comments as always!! any bit of feedback is invaluable


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